Drinking with Dead Women Writers (Drinking with Dead Writers) by Ambrose Elaine & Turner AK

Author:Ambrose, Elaine & Turner, AK [Turner, AK]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Mill Park Publishing
Published: 2012-04-18T04:00:00+00:00

“I love the authenticity of your farming village,” she said as she looked around the room. “Of course, the South produced statesmen and soldiers, planters, doctors, lawyers, and poets. The Yankees had the low calling jobs.”

“Well, we were planters, if that’s what you call it,” I said. “But we grow potatoes and sugar beets in southern Idaho, not cotton and peanuts like you did in the South.”

“As long as you have land,” she said. “Land is the only thing in the world that amounts to anything, it’s the only thing in this world that lasts, and it’s the only thing worth working for, worth fighting for, worth dying for.”

We were silent for a minute as we swallowed our beers, and I noticed the permanent calluses on the palms of my hands, undeniable proof that I had spent my youth hoeing beets and working in the fields on my father’s farmland around Wendell. I always secretly wanted to be Katie Scarlett O’Hara, the sassy, smart, and rebellious young woman living in luxury on a vast estate in Mitchell’s classic Gone with the Wind.

“Your story fascinates me,” I said, then took a drink. “You only published one novel in your lifetime and it won the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction in 1937. That is an incredible achievement.”

“But 12 years later I was hit by a drunk driver while I was walking to a movie. I was only 48 and died four days after,” she said. “That miserable drunk only got four months in jail.”

We finished our beers and ordered another round. I noticed that George had combed his hair, tied on a cleaner apron, and wiped the mustard off his handlebar moustache.

“We don’t get purdy ladies in here in the afternoon,” he said as he brought our beers. “Let me know if you need anything.”

Margaret smiled and cooed with a soft Southern drawl, “Darling, the only thing I want is peace. I want to see if somewhere there isn’t something left in life of charm and grace.”

With that, George wandered back to his place behind the bar, trying to understand what she had said.

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